


Pleats and Pleasure

by hisboywriter



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Crossdressing, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Suga in a school girl's uniform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-20 15:42:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4793126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hisboywriter/pseuds/hisboywriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started like most disasters, with a dare.</p><p>~</p><p>AKA Daichi and Sugawara smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pleats and Pleasure

**Author's Note:**

> This work is completely inspired by [THIS](http://beechichi.tumblr.com/post/128959442340/haikyuu-art-dumpim-not-sorry) piece of art. Thank you for letting me write something for it!
> 
> Who knew I would be down for it?

**-X-**

It started like most disasters, with a dare.

While Sugawara appreciates a healthy competition, whatever it is that spawned between Hinata and Kageyama had all the toxicity to create this sort of predicament. Worse, it proved to have a great range of gravitational pull, hence why Sugawara found himself among the casualties.

More specifically, standing in a girl's school uniform right in Daichi's house.

What had begun as a team exercise spiraled into a conspiracy behind Daichi's back in a matter of minutes. An in-team challenge that the captain would no doubt not have approved of (proven true). Stakes had been raised, offhandedly as a joke by Nishinoya, greatest advocate for good looking school girl uniforms, and, well, the rest of the travesty can be boiled down to 'details'. 

Details, like the ones Sugawara can pinpoint on Daichi. The tension in his shoulders, his still wide-eyes, though less wide than when he'd entered the gym at night (Hinata had been certain Tsukishima is just enough of a sadist to have been the one to tip off the captain), finding the team's elder setter, their ace, and decoy dolled up from head to toe. 

Sugawara remembers the looks on the winning team who'd been appreciating the losers' misery, the way they went gray and Kageyama looked like he realized he shouldn't have allowed his competitive nature put two third-years in school girl uniforms. Then again, Sugawara is sure he'd been ogling Hinata more than the third years.

Again, details.

Perhaps this is what Sugawara got for participating after all. 

Daichi looks like he's fused to the door he's just closed. His parents are out until Friday, a fact he'd supplied Sugawara when he'd escorted him to change in the club room, and then it became all too apparent Daichi was as furious as he was...well, something else. He'd hardly been able to protest when Sugawara, feeling a modicum of triumph that the situation might turn to his favor, started marching out the gym, skirt flapping and all.

In the end, he walked to Daichi's home like that, in Daichi's jacket at the least because Daichi is that kind of guy. It hardly made Sugawara feel any less exposed and contemplating the level of his sanity that he had actually done this though. _Is_ doing this.

Now though, watching Daichi, he feels like it might be worth it.

"You're staring."

"You're in a," pause, "skirt." Daichi blinks rapidly then shakes his head hard. He hadn't said a word on their walk, but their hands had bumped more often than typical. "That is to say," he hardens his throat the way that terrifies most others, "I'm wondering if that's enough proper punishment for encouraging that little game that you all did behind my back."

Sugawara won't confirm or deny that.

"Where did they get the uniforms?" Daichi asks.

Sugawara shrugs one shoulder, bashful. "It wasn't exactly specified..."

Daichi doesn't move.

Sugawara finds the courage to smile. The captain, for all his seriousness, certainly is struggling to keep his eyes on Sugawara's face."Are you really that mad?"

"I am."

"If I said I was very, very sorry?"

"I'd still be mad."

Sugawara doesn't miss the way Daichi's eyes drop below the waistline.

"Say, Daichi..."

The eyes jump back up. "What is it?"

"I think you're a little pent up."

Daichi tenses even more, narrows his eyes.

Sugawara turns away and navigates his way through the home he considers a second one to him. Even Daichi's mom has said as much, so it's easy enough to shrug out of the jacket and hang it on a temporary spot on a hook.

"What are you doing? Of course I'm upset."

"I'm sorry we went behind your back," Sugawara says, genuine. He turns to face Daichi fully, and revels in the way the captain can't resist looking over the outfit. "Tanaka said it didn't look as awful as he'd thought they would on us."

"Tanaka says a lot of things."

"Daichi."

Dark eyes flick up. Sugawara clasps his hands behind his back, starting the smallest smile. "Eyes up here."

It's a risky maneuver, teasing like that. Daichi's aura darkens, and then it's two strides, and Sugawara's anticipation is all that keeps him from being snatched. He side steps and scurries back into the living area. His smile is big now.

Daichi's eyes go wider, feral. 

If you'd told Sugawara he'd be playing a game of cat-and-mouse with Daichi while in a school girl's uniform anytime before yesterday, he might suggest a visit to the infirmary for signs of a concussion. Of course there he is now, laughing because this is absolutely ridiculous on so many levels, and Daichi's face and the intensity in which he hounds after him is awakening something giddy and hot inside him that he can't do anything but laugh, even if it is part in fear.

But Daichi's faster, and he's stronger; he snags Sugawara around the middle, has him flush against a wall, and it's the longest kiss they've shared yet.

"Daichi." He sighs it as their mouths finally break with that quiet smack he's fond of. His fingers are splayed on Diachi's chest, just the shirt layered over the muscle underneath. Daichi's hands are still on his wait, kneading, curious.

Their noses bump, and they're close enough that Sugawara can see how blown Daichi's eyes really are. So much fire and strength, all in need of an outlet that Sugawara is equally nervous and eager in providing. He chuckles, a breathless sound, and presses up into Daichi's bigger hands. The nudge of encouragement has the captain bite back a sound, but gradually his fingertips play with the ends of the blouse, tickling the skin beneath.

Sugawara reaches up and draws that mouth back to his just as Daichi's hands sneak under. They're hot, despite the chill from outside, hand-printing heat up Sugawara's chest, along his sternum, down his stomach. It makes him moan and press up that much more, and it seems it's just another gesture to stir the fire in Daichi.

In a strong motion, Daichi lifts him up higher against the wall. It's not the first time like this, so Sugawara knows to link his thighs over the other's hips, aligning his backside with Daichi's crotch.

Daichi all but vibrates and unleashes a spell of kisses over Sugawara's jaw, his neck, the parts of his collarbone not hidden by the uniform. Sugawara gasps and squirms, the ferocity of Daichi's mouth a surprise. Hands squeeze at his waist, scrambling, as if unsure what to grab, how to navigate the new clothing.

It leaves Sugawara positively bereft of all sense, save for one.

"Daichi, Daichi, wait," he hates having to pause, and has to push hard on Daichi's chest to get him to stop.

Daichi leans back, aghast, but Sugawara is quick to kiss away the concern. "It's fine," he says around a soft laugh, "just...not here."

Even he's not about to defile the sanctity of the Daichi household so shamelessly.

They stumble through their arousal and spill into Daichi's room, hand in hand and their bags neglected back at the front door along with their shoes. Sugawara's always liked Daichi's room. Bigger than his own, and peppered with the paraphernalia of a volleyball lover and player. That, and all the sheets and clothing have the particular scent that is all Daichi.

Sugawara lets go of his hand gradually and gestures to the bed. There's a moment before Daichi manages to rein back his composure and slip away. At the bed, he turns, drinking in the sight of Sugawara gone flush from their session. He perches on the edge, swallowing deeply, almost eerie in his calmness where moments ago he'd been anything but.

Years have honed Sugawara in all matters regarding Daichi, so he knew not a heartbeat after Daichi saw him in the uniform back at the gym that he was not hating the view, and probably never considered it a reality. To be fair, neither had Sugawara.

None of this is voiced though. In part Sugawara worries it will rattle Daichi out of his gawking, which is becoming kind of charming. Embarrassing, but charming.

So Sugawara allows him the sight, too aware of his limbs and how awkward he must be trying not to be awkward. He can't stop the blush, and neither can Daichi by the looks of it. He can, however, drag his fingertips over the pleats in the skirt, just so that it starts to crawl up his thighs.

Daichi notices. He swallows again, his eyes zeroed in on the gesture. It's almost too easy.

The skirt rises higher, just as Sugawara turns enough to offer a peek at the fitted boxers beneath. He tries not to imagine the reaction if he had been women's undergarments. One absurdity at a time.

Save for the occasional bob of his throat, Daichi remains obediently still.

Sugawara reaches down to peel off the socks.

"Wait."

He glances up. Daichi looks conflicted.

Far too easy.

Sugawara stops, and instead closes the gap between them. His hands reach out, arms perching over Daichi's shoulders as he slowly mounts. This time Daichi's hands, albeit with the faintest tremble, seem to know where to go. They tuck just under the end of the skirt, fingertips scratching the patch of skin above the high socks.

The heat of his touch is comforting. Sugawara smiles faintly and Daichi's face softens, like he couldn't be more at peace with this third-year teammate in full school girl uniform. It starts something in Sugawara's chest that spreads out across his skin. He thinks Daichi must feel it in his fingers stroking along the captain's jaw, in the light touch of their foreheads pressing together.

And because Sugawara can't resist: "Are you still mad at me?"

"Very." Daichi's smile can cure the worst day, Sugawara's certain. 

They kiss slower this time, and it feels like they have all the time in the world. School is hours away, and they're young, capable of sacrificing a little sleep if it means they can revisit all their favorite kinds of kisses. That's an extensive list, and Sugawara can't pick just one. 

These kinds of kisses highlight Daichi's kindness. He angles his head this way and that to accommodate when Sugawara tilts his, and the slightest nibble or sound from him clues Daichi to deepen the kiss or flatten his hands on Sugawara's back to lure him closer. Sugawara is content to melt against him, and he always does like this, his own fingers dragging over Daichi's strong shoulders, up the fine texture of his hair. Each time it earns him a grunt, and the sound alone undoes him.

Their chests press firmly enough to feel the other's heartbeat with a little attention. Sugawara knows he's being louder by now, though he always thinks he's not, and that the sounds are all in his head. Daichi's mouth detaches with a small peck, dipping down to the expanse of his neck again, planting loud, slow kisses anywhere he can.

Sugawara sighs shakily and rocks into the hands on his thighs.

Daichi's fingernails have found the need to peel at the socks, snapping them back gently, rolling them back to feel more skin, then thumbing them back into place so his hands can travel higher up under the skirt.

His voice is husky and makes Sugawra shiver. "Can I..."

Whatever it is, Sugawara nods. Daichi guides his hips so he sits up, then helps in the process of ridding Sugawara completely of his boxers. He drags out the act, hand running over leaner muscle as he slides off the garment, all the way down to Sugawara's ankle, where it's shaken off before the hand backtracks the same path up Sugawara's leg. The skirt settles back over Sugawara's backside, and more obviously on the part of him causing the hint of a tent.

His face is buried in Daichi's shoulder, fingers gripping hard on the button-down. He can't recall a time when his face feels this hot, including the first time they rutted naked against each other.

Daichi's hands are slow, maybe a little coy as they circle the full extent of Sugawara's backside, offering a squeeze that push their hips closer together. Sugawara drowns a sound at just the right spot in Daichi's neck, because it earns him a firmer squeeze. So Sugawara kisses the spot, then nibbles until he feels Daichi's entire body shifting, like it's taking everything in him to restrain himself. Daichi, who's always so composed, so much the parental force keeping everyone in line. Right now, Sugawara wants Daichi to be anything but, so he grazes with his teeth just enough to tease pain.

It's enough; Daichi groans hard and uses the imbalance in their strengths to toss Sugawara onto the bed. Knowing better than to crawl away, Sugawara lies back, watching the way Daichi's fingers pop a few buttons from his own shirt before looming over him, hands anchored on either side of Sugawara's head.

They're both pink in the cheeks. Sugawara smiles up and touches the coloring on the other's face with the barest touch of two fingers.

Daichi grabs his wrist, pressing his fingers hard enough to overpower any struggle that doesn't exist. It's for show, and Sugawara lets him pin his hand back to the mattress. Daichi releases it, but Sugawara understands the command in his eyes to stay still.

He swallows hard and can't help feel ridiculous.

But Daichi's eyes roam over him like he's something precious, worth more than any bed of treasure. One hand smooths over his stomach, sweeps up under the blouse. Slightly calloused fingers tickle Sugawara's chest as he watches the bump of Daichi's fingers fondle him. He's pinched in a few spots that makes him bite down on his lip more than once, but then Daichi's other hand joins to lift the shirt enough so his tongue can follow, and Sugawara's head tilts back with a long moan.

His hands itch to touch Daichi. They fist instead, and he tries not to writhe. He fails when Daichi's mouth finds a nub, hands scratching circles on his sides. It earns him a tighter hold on his ribs so Daichi's mouth can navigate the plains of his body to its full content. Sugawara wants to just rip the blouse off, and for each urge to do so, it only bunches up more, or worse, is adjusted back down over his chest.

There's little time to complain about it, with Daichi's tongue dipping around his bellybutton. He gasps, the tongue hot against the lingering cold. It's quickly being chased away wherever Daichi touches, especially when his thighs are next.

"Daichi," he tries, but it's lost in another sound. He's not sure Daichi has a favorite spot, but he knows that Sugawara's thighs are one of his weaker points. Here, his mouth unleashes a torrent of heated kisses and light nibbles that have Sugawara swallowing down groans, making his hips jerk, making his whole body feel the need to coil into itself.

Daichi's travels reach top of the socks, biting the fabric, dragging it down and then back up when Sugawara makes an encouraging sound to just rid him of the stifling layer. Daichi leaves them in place.

Those hands rub the full length of the socks as Daichi's head lowers to the tent in the skirt. For all the wild look in his eyes, he moves with the precision and pace of a hunter waiting for the pounce. With that same languid grace, he lowers his head under the skirt, and Sugawara can't stay quiet.

He's a mess of gasps and other little noises he tries to repress. Daichi's hands are rough tonight, grabbing and squeezing while his mouth contrasts the sensation with light kisses, gentle laps of his tongue, soft suckling. When Sugawara's hips move too much, he's held still by the hips, and the lazy sucking and kissing resumes.

It's enough to abandon the rules; Sugawara buries his hands in the fullness of Daichi's hair. It's allowed, and the attention intensifies until Sugawara is quivering and whispering nonsensical pleas into the darkness of the room.

Just as he feels the heat in his gut mounting, Daichi pulls back and the skirt settles back over his crotch.

Sugawara isn't the sort to whine, but he's on the cusp of forcing out an intelligible plea. But it never comes out because Daichi's looming over him again, returning Sugawara's wrists back by his head where they belong. It's the way Daichi's looking at him though that's taken his breath as though it's been kissed away.

Daichi's hand leaves one of his wrists. His thumb strokes over the beauty mark.

"You're beautiful."

Sugawara stares up, and it feels like Daichi's words reach past the aesthetics. He doesn't think he can feel any warmer than he does.

So Sugawara shoves his face away with a soft cry.

"What kind of thing is that to say!" He's breathless, so the exclamation is as feeble as the sound he made when Daichi had sucked the tip of his shaft for what felt an eternity. 

There's a kiss to his palm, and Daichi's chuckle is deep, resonating past the skin where it's been kissed.

Sugawara purses his lips and looks away. The bed shifts with Daichi's weight, and he sneaks a glance over to where Daichi's reaching in a side drawer. His heart pounds faster.

He thinks better than to ask if he should take off the uniform.

Daichi's returned, hands back on his waist where the shirt doesn't exactly cover, pushing gently. There's a little resistance before Sugawara lifts high enough for a pillow to be tucked under him. It provides an explicit view, skirt puckering over his thighs and all, that makes the rush of his blood as loud as the thump of his heartbeat.

He's sure Daichi can hear it as he makes himself comfortable. Then, a wet finger traces what's up for full display, and Sugawara wants to close his eyes. He can't, entranced at the way Daichi watches him as the first finger sinks in. In this, Daichi won't rush. It's not for a lack of an urge to ravish Sugawara, but rather one method of doing just that, of devoting his undivided attention to this point of contact.

The skirt hides the view of Daichi working him open. First one that takes its time dragging in, out, then back in deep to the knuckle, and then a second, where the thrusts can push in a little harder, just enough to push a sigh out of Sugawara. He feels silly with his hands open by his head, and worse when Daichi's free hand plays with the creases in the skirt as he fingers Sugawara as deep as his fingers will go.

It's methodical, slow, but no means lazy. Soon the fingers start to rub, scissor, and Sugawara's hands start to creep down in the need to touch himself.

"Daichi." It's a plea, his hands trembling as he wills them to stay on the bed. He gives the digits in him a light squeeze, and it begs for everything his stuttering voice can't.

Daichi hasn't even taken off his pants, and doesn't. He sinks back enough to just free himself, and Sugawara fights the impulse to stroke him. Daichi's gaze on him is all the shackles he needs to stay put. His entire body is a perpetual thrum of arousal.

Their breathing is deep, quiet and somehow eclipsing the beat of his heart. Daichi prepares himself, then scoots back into the space Sugawara's made between his legs. He lines up, just right, and Sugawara likes the way his thighs, incredibly hot from the socks, are draped over Daichi's thicker ones.

Sugawara reaches out then and cups his hands over Daichi's, where it's heavy on his hip, under the skirt.

Daichi waits, and they watch each other for the span of a deep breath, and then he's pushing in.

The pressure always gets to Sugawara, but never like this. He inhales sharply, and the resounding gasp is broken and riddled with how good it feels. It's his favorite, the moment of union, the way Daichi angles his hips with the skill that's come from doing this more than several times. Though not quite like this.

Sugawara squeezes the hand, hard enough so Daichi stops and studies his expression.

It takes several breaths and all the nerve Sugawara has to say the name like a mantra: "Sawamura..."

There's a second that imprints in Sugawara's mind, of the way Daichi's eyes widened, and then it's the full force of his thrust. A cry tears out of him, his head falling back when the thrust precedes a slew of many others, and suddenly Daichi's face is in his neck, bodies flushed against each other as the explosion of passion from before renews itself now in the most primal act.

Sugawara doesn't try to keep quiet. He can't, his voice a constant noise that tangles with the creak of the bed, the slap of each time Daichi pushes in. It makes him feel delirious and narrows the entire world down to these sounds, the feelings, the scent of Daichi.

"Koushi." It spills between grunts, bleeding into the parts of Sugawara's skin where Daichi says the name.

Sugawara matches the name with Daichi's until he's not sure if he's saying it or shouting it. He lets himself go lost to each hard thrust, each bite to his neck, the squeeze of Daichi's arm around his waist. The uniform is suffocating and delicious at once, the fabric scratching and tickling. Mingling with the touch of Daichi's free hand touching all of him, over and under the garment, Sugawara can't do much else but finally touch Daichi.

His hands, otherwise fisted in the sheets, come to cling to strong arms. Daichi pushes up, fixating his hands back on either side of Sugawara's body as he thrusts like both their lives depend on it. Then he's leaning back, dragging Sugawara's hips down onto his lap to impale him with each jerk of his hips, and this time Sugawara knows the sound he's made has to be a scream.

He knows Daichi's watching him like, head flown back, hands having lost grip and scrambling to find purchase on the bed, on one of Daichi's wrists. 

The next time he chokes on Daichi's name, it's a plea.

It's rewarded, a hand under the skirt that's been rubbing against him. 

Sugawara's orgasm rocks through him, and he won't care about the ruined skirt until much later. Right now he feels the tremors sensitizing his body, Daichi aware of it and pounding him straight through the rush of the feeling. He can only gasp, words long lost to the walls and still echoing in Daichi's ears.

He holds Daichi's eyes though, manages with liquid-feeling arms to stroke up those tense arms, splay his legs wider, and run his fingers over the skirt. Daichi never breaks contact, and he must understand the silent encouragement, because his hips' movements come faster, erratic, and the grip on Sugawara's hip and thigh will be remembered fondly tomorrow in the mirror.

There's the final thrust where he's deeper than his fingers have been, everything locked tight for a heartbeat, and then, melts. Sugawara tensed with him, riding out the shock of Daichi's climax, and then opening his arms to steady him as it wanes. But Daichi's kind, and wills himself steady on his elbows with a shudder.

Sugawara soothes his muscles, can't help tease under the shirt Daichi should have stripped himself out of. He plants a lazy kiss to a flushed cheek, and it's met with full lips that want to indulge in another long kiss. Sugawara relaxes under it, fingers feathering along Daichi's jaw.

There's a few, languid circles of Daichi's hips, just the way Sugawara likes but won't admit. Daichi swallows the moans from that before he reaches between them and slides out.

Before he can start an apology, Sugawara draws him back down to silence it with yet another kiss.

When it ends, Sugawara is more than willing to be collected into Daichi's side until they will later stagger into the washroom together.

"Are you still mad?" Sugawara asks once he's found his voice under all the panting.

Daichi inhaled deeply, kisses his temple. "Yes."

"You scared the others."

"Drills for a full week, at the least." Daichi's smile is gentle.

Sugawara plops his head onto his chest. "...Worth it," he mumbles.

"Hm?"

Sugawara hides a smile. "Nothing."

Later, when they're washed and basking in each other's comfort in the tub as a particular set of uniforms are washed, Sugawara will think partaking in more disasters may not be so bad after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. I never thought I'd write a DaiSuga fic (though I love them), but here it is! 
> 
> Thank you again for any and all support!!


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